Holiday Loving- To the Moon and Back
by cwtch
Summary: Antonio and Lovino have been working hard, and balancing the schedules of both their full time jobs is difficult, especially when the need for intimacy arises. Lovino decides to book them a holiday as far from their home and stressful jobs as possible, and chooses a small little hotel on the bay of San Francisco to spend their "romantic getaway".


_Disclaimers: I do not own hetalia or any of its characters, all rights go to the creator._

After many failed attempts and struggles with a key, Antonio finally opens the door to our room, sighing in relief as he drops his bags to the side. I step in after him, shrugging my own bag to the floor and taking off my shoes. I immediately make for the first mahagony door on the left, only to find an empty closet and not the bedroom I hoped it to be. I move on, wanting nothing more than to throw myself onto a comfy bed and sleep for an eternity and a day. Long distance traveling with an overly-energetic Spaniard is not exactly relaxing.

I throw open the second door, sighing in relief- it's the bedroom. I walk in, and the first thing I see is a massive king-sized bed with fluffy blue throw pillows and a soft-looking brown comforter. I run and throw myself on top of it, bouncing slightly on the mattress.

"Like a cloud," I mumble, burrowing down into the pillows. "A big, fluffy cloud."

I hear Antonio snort from the door of the bedroom, and then a few moments later, the bed dips beside me and two warm arms slip around me, pulling me towards his warm body. I mumble incoherently and nuzzle into his chest. "And you're a fucking heater. Don't move at all," I warn. I hear him chuckle. "I'm serious. Don't."

"Oh, Lovi, you are so adorable," he says, kissing my forehead. I sigh in content, both of us slipping into a comfortable silence. Cold begins to freeze my feet, but I ignore it, too comfortable in my current position to climb under the blankets. Suddenly, the phone on the nightstand behind Antonio rings shrilly. Both of us groan in annoyance.

"Worst timing ever," I hear Antonio mutter as he releases me and turns to answer the call. I sigh and sit up again, deciding to get my bags from the front door and unpack. We're staying here for a week and a half as a sort of get away from Spain. We had both thought a good vacation together would be fun, and chose to visit America for a short time. It was sort of an escape, not meant to last too long because of Christmas being around the corner.

We both have never been to this country, and San Francisco is supposed to be a lovely city, from what the hotel reviews we read online said. _Of course,_ I think bitterly, _they never mentioned the miserable winter. Fucking cold. Though, I suppose it's not as bad as the winters in Spain._

I drag my heavy suitcase into the bedroom, unpacking my clothes into the top half of the large dresser in the corner of the room. I hear Antonio still chatting on the phone, an undertone of annoyance in his voice. "Yes, we did. Our reservation is from today, November thirtieth to December ninth." A pause, and Antonio rubs the bridge of his nose. "No, thank you. I think we're both too tired for dinner right now."

I nod to what he said, completely agreeing with him. I _am_ hungry, but sleep is more important to me right now. I finish unpacking and store my bag underneath the bed, making for Antonio's so I can unpack it for him. He stops me as I walk out the door. "Lovino, they want to know if we would like breakfast brought to us tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, sounds great," I say, continuing my trek to the front door. I pick up the bag and walk back in, stopping right next to him and leaning down to his level. "I'm going to unpack your bag for you, okay?" I ask, and he nods in response, busy with filling out the breakfast card to leave on our door. I grab the hand he's holding the pen in and check the small box next to the coffee option on the bottom, making him laugh and nudge me with his shoulder.

I stand straight and glide over to the dresser again with a small smile turning up the corners of my mouth, continuing with the unpacking. While doing so, I retreat into my thoughts. It had been awhile since we've stayed in a hotel, and this is kind of a nice escape. Especially since both of our jobs have been pushing us to our limits during the day. He works day in and day out on a farm an hour and a half from our house in Barcelona growing tomatoes and whatnot. It's a long commute, but he says it's completely worth it, and I suppose it is. He loves what he does, and I'd rather run myself through with a rusty knife than force him to work a boring office job. I, however, am a teacher at a local school, teaching a bunch of teenagers astronomical science, which is actually pretty interesting of a subject. It really gets your mind working, having it piece together patterns and come up with possibilities of our galaxy and the ones beyond. It's breathtaking; exploding supernovas, forming planets, dying stars, galaxies and constellations. I could go on and on all day about astronomy.

I've done it before. Come home from work after a particularly fascinating lesson and just talking on and on about it while Antonio made dinner or watched me with amused affection. I've even heard him tell me after our more intimate moments that it was equally endearing hearing me speak so animatedly about my job as it was sexy witnessing the extent of my knowledge. He's a very sentimental and affectionate man, but I don't mind. I'm just glad he puts up with my moody shenanigans.

I look down at his travel bag, and notice the small little identification tag on it. It's a childish patch with a dingy white moon worn with age, and on it it reads in neat cursive 'I love you to the moon and back'. A smile breaks out on my face and I have to stifle the giddy feeling in my chest as I realize that he kept it after so many years.

Antonio had seen this in a small shop on our anniversary and bought two- the other hanging on my own bag- and then presented them to me with a promise. The promise, sappy and cliche as it was, was to always love each other. Through anything, and everything. The two small ID tags were a symbol of our bond, Antonio had claimed, a smile on his face and jovial laughter bubbling in his voice. We had agreed that for as long as we still carried them around, our love would flourish and burn ardently for the rest of our mortal lives. Like I said, he's very sentimental. Let's add sappy to that list.

I release the bag from my reminiscent grip, already having moved to the bed, and drop down to stuff it underneath the bed with the other. The two tags dangle side by side, both dingy and worn with obvious travel. The sight makes me smile. A weight drops down next to me, and I realize that Antonio is on the floor staring at them as well, a grin plastered on his face, too.

We stand, and he tugs me into his arms by my hips. He pulls my chin up and catches my lips in a sweet kiss that last only a few seconds before he pulls away. I tuck my head under his chin, one of the only pluses of our height difference, and listen to the vibrations of his chest as he softly hums. A light smile is settled on my face. I feel him slowly guide us backward to the bed, and he falls back on it, me on top of him. He is still holding me close, but I break away so we can properly climb under the blankets this time. Once we're both comfortable, he holds me again, trailing lazy kisses around my face, from my nose to my cheekbone to the corner of my mouth. I turn my face away with a sleepy grin, turning on my side so that my back is pressed against his chest.

It doesn't solve anything; he just moves to kissing my neck and shoulder. I let out a small groan as he changes from kissing to sucking my neck. He finds the small sweet spot right behind my left ear, and I melt back against him. He smirks and continues, biting and nipping at the spot, only spurred on by my moans of pleasure. I find it completely unfair, his teasing, so I grind back against him, smirking at the long moan my actions draw from his lips.

He flips me around so he can see my face and kisses me long and hard. I can feel the heat driving his kiss, and I reciprocate it with equal passion. Our hands are roaming, pulling at each other's clothes, fisting them up to reveal the skin below to roam over it. I nip at his bottom lip and he opens his mouth so I can deepen the kiss. With every second the passion increases between us, so much so that it's gotten to the point where it's hardly distinguishable where he ends and I begin. I shiver as he slides his hand up my waist, loving the way his calloused hands feel against my skin. As he runs them up and then back down my side slowly, goosebumps erupt around my body and I moan. Our teeth accidentally clash together in a clumsier moment of the kiss and we break apart, our faces flushed and lips swollen.

He grins at me, caressing my cheek, and I shyly smile back. "Hi."

He laughs, a rich sound that fills the room and colors it vibrantly, lighting my insides with a happy fire. I love his laugh, so very much. It's sometimes soft and loving, or loud and amused; either way, it never fails to make me smile. The way he tosses his head back like he's just heard the funniest joke in the world is so adorable, that sometimes I want to reach over and kiss him senseless. But I don't. I admire from afar, firmly believing that a piece of art should not be taken in by touch but rather sight.

He notices my staring and gazes steadily back, a light smile set into his features. I lean forward and kiss his lips sweetly, both of us suddenly aware of the lighter, more loving and less rough mood. Antonio's hands carry out a more doting touch around my waist, gripping still as strongly, but only with the intentions of keeping me near. His other hand is supporting my face, the pad of his thumb smoothing over my cheekbone. My hands are in his hair, one under his head as support and the other twirling the soft curls around my fingers. I hear him moan softly against my lips, and with next second I'm moaning too, him having grasped my ass, kneading it playfully.

As the moments grow into minutes, and the minutes progress from one to several, our clothes are shed and we are left bare to each other. My eyes take in his form, sheening with a light sweat. The lights bounce off his lean, muscular body as I run my hands up his stomach, eliciting a small gasp. Solid muscles, stretched over long bones and covered with sunkissed tan skin. He is beautiful, and breathtaking, and sweet, and most surprisingly- yet relievingly- he is mine. Just that thought still has the power to strike my heart with childish jubilancy.

"You're beautiful," he breathes, and I am filled with a warm buzz. I turn my head away, and open my mouth to speak in disagreement, but he cuts me off. "Dios, you are, and it drives me crazy. I just want you. All your flaws, mistakes, smiles, jokes, sarcasm- everything. I love you."

My cheeks darken in a flattered blush. I stare up at him and am hit with it; this thought- not a revelation, for I had already discovered this long ago. This is just a mere passing of an already long uncovered feeling: I love him, profoundly. His emerald eyes that sometimes look forrest green in certain lights, his dark brown locks that curl just before the nape of his neck, his musical laughter, his boisterous personality and bubbly attitude, his insufferably adorable love of tomatoes; I love it all. I'm caught in this sudden surge of emotion that I gasp, tears in my eyes that threaten to spill. Before they do, I lean up and kiss him, deeply and putting as much feeling as I can into the kiss as he continues to ravish me.

"I love you so much," I gasp out, panting in pleasure. He kisses down my jawline, then back up, pulling away to rest his forehead on top on mine.

We are eye level with each other, and I watch as he loves me. I'm completely captivated by the way we seem to fit together; like two matching puzzle pieces locking together as a whole. He watches back, and we sometimes have to break eye contact, the intensity of our ardor catching us with surprise. I lean up and kiss him again, over and over, letting our lips slot together like a deck of cards; he kisses back vehemently.

The room is filled with rough sounds of skin slapping skin, incoherent moans, our names being gasped out, and the creaking and rocking of the bed frame. I know I'll be sore down there tomorrow, with the way he's plowing into me. I don't mind. All I can think of is the pulsing heat low in my stomach and the way his hands are touching me. One grips my hip, his thumb digging almost painfully into my hip bone. The other's position is ever changing, roaming from my chest down my stomach in a teasing manner, traveling lower, lower, trailing his fingers with just a ghost of a touch until they finally reach my- _Oh god._

I'm shaking and writhing with pleasure, his hands working ungodly sins on my body. I'm grabbing at his shoulders, linking my hands together around his neck, raking my nails up and down his back, twisting his curls in my fingers. I bring him down and start sucking on his neck, wanting to mark him. I want others to look at him and know that he's taken; that he's mine. I bite down, just above where his shirt collar would be, hard, and he growls, speeding up his pace as a response. I bite down again, and then run my tongue over the area. I continue a trail of kisses up his neck and across his jawline to his chin and up to his lips. The kiss is intense, but sloppy, our teeth clashing as a result of our chaotic movements in desperate attempt to bring each other to climax. Soon enough, with a few crazed thrusts I'm gasping out his name against his ear, him doing the same against my neck.

Panting, we lay side by side, staring up at the ceiling, creamy blankets tangled around legs and soft throw pillows disregarded on the ground. The air is thick with a serene stillness, unbroken by our already evened breathing, and it lasts for a lengthy amount of time. A bubbling laugh starts in my chest, and it grows until it's flowing out of my mouth like music. It takes a few moments, but Antonio's laughing with me, our heaving laughs and snorts and giggles breaking the calm silence of the hotel bedroom.

Then we are lying on our sides, gazing at each other, the mood glazed over with an after-sex flush. He pulls me close and kisses me, our lips working together in a lazy stride. I pull away, resting my forehead against his. His eyelids flutter shut; I kiss one of them, then the other, and then his nose. He is smiling by the time I kiss his forehead, and even wider when I kiss the apples of his cheeks. Impatiently, he pouts his lips, and I chuckle fondly.

"Don't push it," I mutter, and he whines out a high-pitched "Loviiii!". I smile despite myself, and then hover my lips just in front of his, enjoying this little moment of annoying him. "Alright, bastard-" In his impatience, he cuts me off with a kiss. I laugh against his lips.

The long kisses turn into small pecks, and from there they regress into sleepy yawns and cuddles. I revel silently in the warm feeling in my chest, the happy beating of my heart and the sound of his behind me as we spoon. "I love you," I hear Antonio mumble, "deeply."

I smile, remembering something. "To the moon and back?"

A soft hum of a laugh comes from behind me, and he leans forward and plants a lasting kiss on the back of my bare shoulder. "To the moon and back, mi amor."

I smile happily, warmth spreading through my chest as I close my eyes, snuggling back into his arms. He's softly snoring behind me, arm draped over my waist, breath hitting the back of my neck in hot puffs. "Me too. To the moon," I whisper, a small yawn interrupting my promise, sleep bribing me with vibrant dreams, "and back."


End file.
